


As the Shrike to Your Sharp and Glorious Thorn

by ElissaHawke



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Chroma Conclave Arc, Episode: c01e078 The Siege of Emon, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mention of Pike, Minor Keyleth/Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Near Death Experiences, Pining, Vax'more, like if you squint - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElissaHawke/pseuds/ElissaHawke
Summary: A short exploration of Gilmore's feelings for Vax up to the Siege of Emon.
Relationships: Shaun Gilmore/Vax'ildan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	As the Shrike to Your Sharp and Glorious Thorn

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this three, almost four years ago (early 2017) while I was Going Through It with my feelings about these two, and processing Vax's reaction to Gilmore being on death's door.
> 
> Title from Shrike by Hozier.

Shaun Gilmore didn’t consider himself naive. Not even close, in fact. A man who had seen as much of the world as he had couldn’t have survived with so much as a drop of naivete in his blood. Which made him careful. More so than he let on. Almost disarmingly so, considering how easy the charming smiles came to his lips, and the number of people who considered him a dear friend. Those who could be trusted could be counted on the ring-clad fingers of one hand.

When he’d first met Vax’ildan, it was business as usual. A beautiful young man. One who didn’t shy away at the flirtation, or the way his eyes wandered over that lithe frame, clad in leather. A casual back and forth, more often interrupted by his interesting choice of compatriots than not. Their selection of daggers nearly doubled within a week, much to Sherri’s confusion.

That was, at least, until Vox Machina returned, and she too noticed the spark in Vax’s eyes when he found himself at the newest display case, a smile tugging at his lips. A bright smile, curious. They’d talked over the craftsmanship of the blades, laughed together. And for the first time since they’d met, for just a moment, Gilmore really saw him. He really saw just how much the half-elf carried on his shoulders. Because when he laughed, when he smiled so brightly, the sadness left his eyes, the serious furrow to his brow melting away. He wasn’t lost, not in that moment. And Gods above, was he beautiful.

From that moment on, it was Gilmore’s mission in life to make him smile like that as often as possible.

Even after it all. Even after that night in a back-alley tavern in Emon. Even after he’d had to use all the strength he had not to crack when Vax told him that there was another. That this sweet camaraderie they’d found was never going to stretch beyond longing gazes and innuendo. Even after he’d broken his heart, Gilmore still wanted only what was best for him. Even if that meant trailing after the ashari girl with stars in his eyes.

When the Conclave attacked, there were only so many things he was able to keep his focus on. The two that topped the list were finding the royal family, and ensuring Vax’ildan’s safety. He’d failed on both counts, falling to the ancient red brute that demanded the fealty of all. As the black took over his vision, he thought of his parents. Likely to never know what had befallen their son. He thought of Sherri, still back in the store, facing off against looters before long. And just before he slipped away, he thought of Vax.

The curve of his smile. The furrow of his brow, his long raven hair. The warmth in his eyes when he gazed upon those he loved. The sound of his laugh, his voice. That was what played Shaun Gilmore off into oblivion, his funeral march.  
Or so he thought.

When his eyes slipped open, the first thing he was able to grasp was the pain. The throbbing in his head, the sharp pains radiating out from his torso. Then the warmth, spreading out from two small, gauntleted hands pressed to his chest. Finally, it was the pair of brown eyes staring into his own. The familiar crinkle of his nose when he was trying to hold back emotions. The smile that started to spread.

_He’d managed to make him smile again._


End file.
